Dear Andy

Dear Andy,

Has it really been thirteen years? In some ways, it feels like just yesterday. In other ways, it feels like a lifetime ago. I guess it was a lifetime ago. Your lifetime. 

As more years have gone by since you passed, I'm left struggling with a memory of you that seems to be fading. It's not the memory of our friendship or all the amazing times that we spent together that I'm losing. It's the memory of feeling what it was like to have you in my life. I hate this feeling. It scares me. It saddens me. And it depresses me. 

The worst part of holding onto the memories isn't really the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories with friends are much more cherished when they're shared. As the writer Haruki Murakami once said, "people leave strange little memories of themselves behind when they die." 

I was watching Mandy Patinkin being interviewed by Charlie Rose recently and was fascinated by hearing how every morning, he meditates by reciting the names of all the people whom he loved and whom are no longer alive. He got the idea from a line that Oscar Hammerstein wrote in Carousel: "As long as there is one person on earth who remembers you, it isn't over."

You touched so many lives, my friend, that there is no danger of anyone on earth not remembering you for a very long time.

But you know what, Andy? Ever since I saw that interview, I consciously take a moment every single day to think of you. As I get older, I find myself believing in Einstein and the theory of relativity and how energy never dies. Memories may fade but I'll never forget the feeling of your energy and the sheer force of life that you brought into this world. You'll always be with me in some way or another. I'll never forget you. I promise.  

Some people say that "time heals all wounds." That's bullshit. The wounds remain. Over time, in order to maintain some sense of sanity, we form scar tissue and the pain lessens. But the wounds are never gone. There will always be a hole in my heart from missing you, Andy.

You were one of the best friends a man could ever have and though our time together was tragically cut short, I consider myself lucky to have had you as a friend. For that, I will always be grateful.

I miss you, brother. I miss you a lot. May you always rest in peace.

Love always,

Your friend Pierre

 

Andrew Golkin, 1970-2001

 

Comments

[SassyCupcakes]

My heart breaks every year for you with your letter to Andy. But this one especially has touched me. It's the overwhelming feeling of how important it is to keep loving them when they're gone. That that keeps them here and there is so much value in those shared memories and moments that stick with us. I don't hope you're able to move on, because that would mean forgetting, and that is either impossible or mean they'd disappear a little more from the world - a great tragedy. But I do wish you peace, for you and all of Andy's friends and family. Though to be honest, I sometimes think it's the hurt that keeps the memories feeling so real.

[Isabel @alphamom]

sending you love.

[ang kim]

Thank you for your annual tribute.

I love how real you are. This is an exceptionally poignant tribute.

Thank you for remembering.

[Susan Greenstadt]

Thank you Pierre for always giving us that moment of solitude with such grace. You so elequently write what many of us are feeling.
With love and appreciation,
Susie

[DefendUSA]

It's true, MetroDad. Every year, someone passes and as the number of important people in our world grows ever shorter, so does our time here and it seems, a drive awakens for us to keep them here with us, however we do it. I don't think you're older than me, so rest assured, that I'll keep this in my heart longer, for you and the others, always. Thank you, again, for being who you are.

[Dadcation]

This is the only commemorative article or post I read on this day each year, as I try instead to celebrate my wife's birthday. I'm glad you keep your friend's memory alive. As the distance between now and 2001 continues to grow, and I start to forget what it felt like to wonder if the people I knew in NYC were okay that day, I'm glad to see this reminder each year that, no--not everyone was okay that day, and awful crimes were committed. But, we should remember fondly those who aren't with us any more.

[Devra]

Here. Quietly. Sharing this sacred space.

[Elita Lubis]

My Gosh. What a truly friend you are, Mr. Kim. You must write more often on this blank canvas aka blog.

[Deanna]

Thank you again for sharing Andy with us. Even though this space isn't as busy as it once was, I'm glad you choose to post this tribute every year. I love the idea of thinking of loved ones that have passed - I'll be adding Andy to my list...XO